


Fury

by RedK_addict



Series: Rage [9]
Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen, Inspired by Music, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 05:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6739321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedK_addict/pseuds/RedK_addict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Souji reflects on revenge after taking the Water of Life. Inspired by Souji's character song 'Gagetsu'. Rated for dark themes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fury

It hits me like a blow, crashing over my head like a wave bearing down on me and suppressing all thought. Blood tinges the edges of the room, seeping across my field of vision with every heartbeat.

_How **dare** they…!_

My head spins with the white noise of the rage that's coursing through my body. In a strange moment of detached emotion, I am oddly aware of the fact that I'm not thinking straight. But that doesn't change anything. It doesn't stop the headlong rush of my tumbling thoughts, or the just barely suppressed panic that's making my heart jump uncontrollably. My chest tightens painfully as the adrenaline tingles through my veins.  My lungs burn as wracking, tearing coughs bring me to my knees.

_Not now. Of all the times…_

The rage isn't the only thing making my head spin, I realize in another brief window of clarity. Frustration creeps along my spine, mingling with the anger and panic. My mind is in such a dense fog, I can barely function, moving only by instinct.

The loud crack of gunfire rings out in the darkness, piercing through the haze and jolting through me like a bolt of lightning. The sound only serves to fuel the raging emotions pounding through me. My spirit screams for justice, railing against my broken body like a caged beast. Instinct guides my hand to the sword lying near my head.

But instinct alone won't lift it. My arms refuse to do the task, fingers shaking with a frailty that makes my heart clench. The creeping frustration spreads, clawing into every crevice like a dark shadow.

_Why? Why can't I…_

The shadow grows until it consumes everything, wrapping cold tendrils around my heart and blocking out all senses. Something sharp and bitter slips past my tongue, burning its way down my throat. Minutes – hours? – pass as the spinning daze continues to throb in my ears.

And then the pain begins. A tearing, fiery sensation that starts in the pit of my stomach and rips through me, flaring up into my chest and throat. It's unbearable. It's like some monstrous creature is trying to claw its way out of me. A bloodcurdling scream tears free from my chest. My throat feels raw.

But the rage is a far stronger beast, dominating the pain, funneling it and fueling it until a single sharp point of clarity bursts through the fog. My body is no longer immobile, though whether it is moving by my will or the will of the rage, I cannot tell.

My fingers itch, my soul still screaming. The gunshots sound in the night once more. I can feel something deep within me pull towards the sound. The beast has caught a scent, and I am powerless to rein it in.

Hell, I can barely overcome the haze that has clogged my senses. The ring of cold steel echoes distantly in my ears. I am vaguely aware of the weight of the katana in my hand, though the strength that holds it is foreign to me. I don't recognize my surroundings. Time itself is spinning out of control.

But it doesn't matter. I can smell the blood coursing through their veins, and all I can think about is how badly I want to see it poured out on the ground. They're holding rifles. He'd been shot. My brain makes quick work of the calculation, and my body reacts, aided in no small part by the rage.

Everything else is a blur. The sickly sweet scent of blood hangs in the air and tingles in the back of my throat. I'm not satisfied. I don't recall what words were exchanged, but their answers were not acceptable. I spilled their blood regardless, an offering to my master's honor.

And an attempt to appease the beast. But it's not enough. The beast wants more, an unquenchable thirst for blood and vengeance. I can feel all sense of reason slowly draining away, my mind spinning and twisting as the rage takes over. I realize distantly that I have unleashed something truly terrible and uncontrollable. And I…

I _like_ it. It must be the lack of reason, the loss of all rationale. But the pain, while still an ever present crackle in my chest, has become a strangely pleasant complement to the rage still boiling in my stomach.  The two pull at each other in tandem, tugging at my soul and moving my feet of their own accord.  The hunt has only just begun.

And then I hear it.  Voices…  Someone is calling out, a name I vaguely recall once answering to.  For a moment, I think that it doesn’t matter, that the beast will simply slink off into the night and ignore the frantic calls.  Even to my ears, they sound so incredibly distant.

But… I find I can’t move.  My feet are rooted in place.  I can taste words slipping past my lips in a dark growl that… should never have been meant for _her_ …

There she stands, her arms spread wide to part the red haze that fills my vision.  Defiance and determination have set her jaw.  Funny that I can suddenly pick out details like that.  The beast rages, threatens to cut her down. _She’s in the way!_   But… some invisible force has frozen me in place.  Words are exchanged, threats really, harsh and terrible and suddenly not as lighthearted as they once were.  Again, I am barely conscious of what is being said.

And then another voice pierces the night.  This one sends chills down my spine and sets my jaw, my joints all locking in a tense preparation.  I’m reacting purely on instinct.  The words and their meaning don’t even register in my mind anymore.  I feel like I’m being pulled in different directions, a tearing sensation ripping into my soul.  Her face merges with _his_ for a moment in my mind, and I realize with a jolt why I couldn’t just toss her out of the way like all the others.  _She holds… the same place…_

My thoughts have become sluggish as the strain of maintaining some semblance of conscious, rational thought takes its toll.  Everything is blending together in the dark, red fog that covers me.  But I can see the muzzle of the gun, track its aim, as clearly as if it were right in my face.  My feet are moving before I can even think to try and take control of my body back from the raging beast.  A sharp crack rings in my ears.  Pain shoots through my chest, rivalling the throbbing, aching thirst that has taken up residence there.

This should be inconsequential, but… suddenly my strength is draining away at an alarming rate.  The fog is clearing, chased away by the suddenly sobering pain of the bullet wound.  Something is _wrong_.  That thought registers only briefly, disappearing as I hear her frantic, panicky voice calling my name.  Sick laughter echoes in the night as she shakes me, unintentionally jostling the wound that won’t close as it should.  I can feel my face twist in agony, but I try to force it into a familiar smirk.

She’s okay.  She’s unhurt.  I was unable to save _him_ , but at least I wasn’t entirely useless.  The relief the surges into my chest at that thought drags me down into darkness, my consciousness fading completely.  The pain has finally reached a torrential crescendo that is entirely unbearable, and the rage has dissipated.  Without that to support me, I find myself tumbling headfirst into oblivion.

But she’s _safe_.  That thought alone acts as a comfort amidst the seemingly unending spiral of pain that consumes me.


End file.
